


of those we love

by dupergal



Series: A3! Rare Pair Week 2020 [3]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Drowning, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, its part of the nightmare but there's implied, past omi/nachi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dupergal/pseuds/dupergal
Summary: Ever since his accident, Omi has been terrified of losing the people he loves. Especially when he loves Tsuzuru so much.[A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 Day 3 - One's fear]
Relationships: Fushimi Omi/Minagi Tsuzuru
Series: A3! Rare Pair Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828972
Kudos: 48
Collections: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020





	of those we love

**Author's Note:**

> my original plan was to have the perspectives sort-of alternate during this week, but tbh it was too tempting to talk about Omi's fears for this prompt. And I love how everyone who's writing anything with Omi today is using one's fear LOL we all love exploring that poor boy's trauma
> 
> [unbeta'd beyond a quick read-through from me, I apologize for any mistakes/weird sentences!]

_Omi cups Tsuzuru’s face tenderly in his hands, watching as a blush creeps up his face, heat dancing under his fingertips. The boat rocks with the gentle waves on the lake. A breeze ruffles Omi’s hair. The sun is setting behind them; it’s perfect, it’s romantic, and Omi has everything he could ever need, looking at him with those turquoise eyes sparkling in the soft light._

_Omi leans in, lets his eyes slip closed, anticipating the touch of Tsuzuru’s lips-_

_A wave slams into the boat, spraying water into the air, into the boat, onto them. The wind suddenly picks up, swirling around them. Omi pulls himself back, his hands slipping from Tsuzuru’s face. He grips tightly to the edge of the boat as the waves intensify, battering them from all sides. Wind roars in Omi’s ears. This storm had come out of nowhere, where was it all coming from?_

_He looks at Tsuzuru, his knuckles white on the rim of the boat. He’s soaked and shivering, hair plastered to his head. Omi can see the fear painted in Tsuzuru’s eyes. He can only assume that his eyes look the same._

_The boat is filling with water, lapping at Omi’s ankles. Tsuzuru’s yelling something to him, but the wind is howling, ripping the sound from his throat and scattering his words to the air. Omi’s not sure he would’ve been able to hear him anyways, what with his heart pounding in his ears._

_He can only feel one thing: terror._

_And then an enormous wave overtakes them; the boat flips, and they’re flung into the water. He could’ve sworn the water was supposed to be warm, not this bone-chilling cold that instantly freezes him to the core when he hits the water._

_The water is clear and dark, and Omi can see Tsuzuru below him. His eyes are closed, his body unmoving. His mouth is opened slightly. Desperation sinks in as the bubbles coming from it start to slow, as precious air starts to leave Tsuzuru’s lungs._

_But Omi can’t move. He tries with all his might to force his arm out, to convince his legs into kicking against the cold water. He needs to reach Tsuzuru. He_ has _to. But he can’t. All he can do is watch, as another person is taken away from him. As another person sinks deeper and deeper into the depths of a dark lake, entering a place that Omi cannot follow._

_Omi screams Tsuzuru’s name._

And then Omi is awake, jerking himself upright in bed. For a moment he forgets where he is, panicking that the dampness on his cheeks is lake water instead of sweat. His chest heaves with the effort of breathing, as if he’s just coming up for air, gulping down the oxygen like one would a cup of coffee after a sleepless night.

He takes slow breaths, breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth until his heart rate settles in his chest. It’s not the first time he’s had a nightmare, nor does he believe that it’ll be his last. Omi tries to focus on the here and now: on the sheets tangled around his legs; the gentle sound of Taichi breathing from across the room; the way the moonlight shines through a crack in the blinds, making it seem as though his hands are stained with pale silver.

Quietly, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and makes his way down the ladder to the carpet below, wincing when his heavy weight makes the frame creak. Taichi’s only response is to snort and roll over, mumbling something to himself while Omi creeps across the room. Perhaps the night air will cool his head.

He settles himself down on a bench once he reaches the courtyard, sighing as he slumps into the wood. His head hurts. Leaning forward, Omi covers his face with his hands, as if he could block the remnants of his dream from willpower alone.

Ever since his accident - ever since Nachi - Omi’s been afraid of losing people he loves. It can be any kind of love; as long as he cares for the person, he becomes terrified of losing them. This fear only gets stronger and more terrifying the more he loves someone. Most times he can control it, push it down deep into his soul until it’s just a fleeting thought at the back of his mind that he doesn’t dare to reach for. Other times, like tonight, it manifests itself in the worst way possible, tormenting him with situations and thoughts and filling him with dread. It’s why he pushes other people away; it’s why he thinks that Autumn Troupe, and even the rest of the company, would be better off without him here. The fear of caring too deeply for people and it leading to them getting hurt turns his heart to ice.

So Omi is absolutely terrified of losing Tsuzuru. He hasn’t loved - hasn’t _allowed_ himself to love - anyone since losing Nachi. He wasn’t planning on letting Tsuzuru in this close, either, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Something about his smile, about how he cares for other people, how hard he works. And his _words_ \-- the way Tsuzuru writes makes it feel like he’s reading a piece of Tsuzuru himself, experiencing things the way Tsuzuru sees him. Meeting in college was just the first step: Omi will forever be grateful to Tsuzuru for offering him that photography gig for Summer Troupe, in so many ways he can hardly express them all.

The stars wink at him, like memories of an old friend. Like bubbles floating in a dark lake.

Omi shivers.

“Omi-san?”

Omi doesn’t know how long he has been sitting there, shivering in the courtyard, before he turns at the voice. And of course, the only other person who would reasonably be up at this unholy hour is Tsuzuru. He’s cradling a mug to his chest on the other side of the courtyard, presumably on the way to the kitchen to fill up on more coffee. Instead, he toes off his slippers and shuffles his way across the grass to collapse on the bench at Omi’s side. 

“Tsuzuru…”

“It’s odd for you to be up this late,” Tsuzuru muses as he snuggles himself into Omi’s side. “It’s usually hard to keep you awake long enough to even finish a movie.”

He pauses, shifting his gaze from Omi. It gives him space to speak, Omi thinks. Tsuzuru’s letting him have room to open up. “Is there… is there something wrong, Omi-san?”

Maybe it’s something about how Tsuzuru is looking up at the sky, the moon reflecting off his skin (and the dark circles under his eyes, Omi really needs to start enforcing that he goes to bed even when he’s working on a script) that makes him want to tell Tsuzuru everything. So he does.

Normally, stories about Nachi are packed away in Omi’s soul, stacked haphazardly in his attic of things that need to be handled with care. Speaking to Tsuzuru about Nachi is even more risky: Omi doesn’t want Tsuzuru to think that he’s comparing the two of them, or make Tsuzuru feel he has to reach some sort of standard he thinks Omi might have in his head. Nachi was his first love, but Tsuzuru’s his love now.

But once he starts speaking, he finds the words come easily, far more easily than he would’ve thought. Something inside him was just waiting for him to let everything spill out into the open. Tsuzuru just sits beside him quietly, eyes large to take Omi in with the low light, simply listening. At some point Tsuzuru starts rubbing his back, his chilled fingers comforting as Omi wrestles with holding back tears.

Omi tells him how Nachi’s death made him realize how short life really is, how quickly it can be taken from you. The more he cares about someone, the more he becomes terrified that he may lose them. He tells him about his nightmare, about the crippling fear of Tsuzuru going somewhere that he cannot follow. Just like Nachi. Omi’s constantly teetering on the edge of pain and happiness every time he lets someone else into his life.

“I feel like I’m constantly walking the line between pain and happiness, every time I let someone into my life.” Omi confesses. He turns his body to face Tsuzuru, reaching out to grasp both of Tsuzuru’s hands. His finger runs over the pulse-point in Tsuzuru’s wrist, and the relief he feels beating along to his pulse is palpable.

“I love you, Tsuzuru. I care about you so much that the thought of losing you is-” he cuts himself off and squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel his hands shaking, even as Tsuzuru’s hands tighten around them.

“Omi-san, please look at me.” Omi opens his eyes to meet Tsuzuru’s, shocked at the amount of pure determination burning in them. “I’m not going anywhere. What happened with Nachi was absolutely tragic, something that no one could’ve predicted. And I know why you’re scared; you have every right to be after what happened. Hell, I’m sure I would feel the same way if it’d happened to me.” 

“But you can’t live your life in fear. That’s not fair to you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Even with the dim light of the moon, Omi can see the tips of Tsuzuru’s ears going bright red. “Because… I love you too.”

Tsuzuru quickly pushes back Omi’s bangs and kisses his forehead, eyes firmly closed, as if not seeing what’s happening makes it less embarrassing. “I’m not planning to leave you alone anytime soon, so you better be prepared.”

Omi grins, cupping Tsuzuru’s face as he pouts. “I’ll hold you to that,” Omi promises, and leans in to kiss him, the moon as their witness. 

The stars twinkle above them, not as painful memories, or bubbles rising underwater, but as promises of love.

**Author's Note:**

> [pls come yell at me on twitter about A3! and omitsuzu I'm begging](https://twitter.com/dupergal)


End file.
